Watch Over Ochibichan!
by Syaoran-Lover
Summary: SEQUEL to ATTACK ON OCHIBI-CHAN! COMPLETE! What happens to Ryouma-sama while he couldn't play? Bad memories, horrible nightmares, consciousness crises... and a history no one ever expeceted the young player to have. WATCH the RATING!
1. Present Surprise

A.N.: This fic is a _THREESHOT_, serving as a SEQUEL to **ATTACK ON OCHIBI-CHAN!**, so please read that first, it's only a _ONESHOT_.

**Second warning**: I have totally twisted stuff here, meaning this is a somewhat _DARK_ storyline, even if it is only a _THREESHOT_!

This first shot/chapter is in Katou's POV!!! Since the _oneshot_ was in Horio's POV, I decided to do this one with the others', meaning Katsuo's, Katou's and Ryouma-sama's POVs, not necessarily in that order...

"_In case you don't remember (I always have to check again and again), Mizuno Katsuo is the almost bald 1st year, Kachirou Katou is the one that has the hair shaped like a bowl and whose father is an instructor at a tennis club. If you don't know who Satoshi Horio is, you are in serious need of watching/reading "Tenisu no Ouji-sama" (Prince of Tennis) again. Finally, if you don't know who Echizen Ryouma is, then please go to a psychologist because you are in serious need of a mental check-up! ;p_"

**Disclaimer**: If you don't know what this word is, look up a dictionary or something...

All I own is this fanfiction and its plot, whether it's good or horrible is up to each reader's discernment, but it's still mine, so please don't take it without noticing me and getting my approval _first_!

**Title: WATCH OVER OCHIBI-CHAN!**

_By Syaoran-Lover_

**1st SERVICE – TOUCHED THE NET: PRESENT SURPRISE**

If there's one thing you shouldn't trust about doctors it's when they make an estimate of how long it's going to take for something to happen or finish. It's not like they do it on purpose, but there's just no accuracy on their 'foretelling'... and that's that!

Why am I saying this? Well, there's one good reason: the doctors that examined Ryouma-kun said he should have been cured in two months at most, but it's been almost four and still his wrists are far from healing...

And, in fact, we're all worried about him, as it seems that more and more he spaces out in classes and barely pays attention, not that his grades have lowered or anything, he must have one huge memory when it comes to school facts, but it seems like he has lost all will do to anything without being able to play tennis. When he's walking through the school, Ryouma-kun seems like a zombie lately, no interest where he's going or where he's been, as long as he gets somewhere...

Pretty scary...

Even worse, because we were that worried about him, we decided to follow Ryouma-kun and were quite surprised to see that on his way back home alone, he ran into almost every lamppost on the way, or at least half of them... whichever one, however, that is still a lot, especially for someone who used to always be so aware of his whereabouts. He seems more like Ryuuzaki-san...

Two months later, the situation trespassed all levels of scary... Ryouma-kun seemed to be limping and sleeping all the time, even in tests! So, of course, his grades went down... and those good marks were the last thing he still had in common with the way he was before the incident, so we freaked out beyond imagination...

At this point, when we hadn't seen Momo-chan-senpai for some time, except on the Tennis Club Activities, we decided the best we could do for our classmate was tell them. They were our senpais, and we thought it awfully wrong that they just forget about Ryouma-kun that fast when he had helped win so many important matches...

In fact, Katsuo-kun, Horio-kun and I are heading straight to the tennis clubroom right now...

* * *

Our entrance was quite funny, at least Kikumaru-senpai seemed to think so, as all three of us came bustling in the locker room shouting a different name and got stuck in the door as we tried to get in and explain.

"Buchou!" Was whom I called for.

"Oishi-senpai!" Was Horio-kun's shout.

And Katsuo-kun, "Momo-chan-senpai!" Was whom he tried.

Thank our lucky stars all of the Seigaku members were there, and relief filled us when we noticed that there wasn't an eighth member in Ryouma-kun's place yet... they were still waiting for him.

"Senpais, there's something really weird going on! Ryouma-kun, Ryouma-kun has..." I started saying, but really, with Horio-kun and Katuso-kun on top of me, it was really hard to say anything at all! So first, we disentangled ourselves with a little help from Oishi-senpai, under Kikumaru-senpai's hard laughters, and then I, as I was the first one helped out of the mess, started speaking first. "There's something so wrong with Ryouma-kun! He seems so out of himself... it's like he's not even himself anymore!"

"What?" Momo-chan-senpai asked, his eyebrow lifting in confusion, his question reflecting all the senpai's too, or most of theirs, as Kaidou-senpai had his eyes closed but was clearly listening interestedly and Tezuka-buchou had his usual unreadable expression.

"You really haven't seen him?" Katsuo-kun asked the senpais in general, a bit of surprise in his, Horio-kun's and my faces. Honestly we thought they did visit him once in a while, but it seemed they completely forgot the youngest member of the team...

"No, actually," Momo-chan-senpai started phrasing, his arm going to the back of his head in a clear expression of embarrassment.

Oishi-senpai stepped in for him, "Actually, we had a meeting and came to the conclusion that Echizen probably would feel better if we didn't keep around him, he's not much of a social person and all."

"And he probably feels bad enough not being able to play tennis at all," Kikumaru-senpai complemented.

"He'd feel weak," were the only words to come out of Kaidou-senpai's mouth, though he never even lifted his head or opened his eyes.

And at this point, I think Fuji-senpai's curiosity got the better of him. "What exactly is wrong with Echizen-kun?" He asked us, and though there was still a trace of his usual smile, it was clearly surrounded by concern too...

"_Weird, since when did it become so easy for me to read people?"_ I ask myself, but these thoughts were interrupted by Horio-kun's answer to the prodigy's inquiry.

"Well," he started and we spent the rest of that period telling them what we had observed for the last six months.

* * *

"And you know what's even scarier? Absolutely _NO_ sarcastic comments! Echizen that quiet can't be something good!" Horio-kun finished.

"Definitely. You three, keep a close watch on him, tell us if something happens. For the moment, there's nothing better than observing. It might be nothing, but it's best we don't take chances," Tezuka-buchou instructed.

We nodded, and no one said anything else...

* * *

About three days later, we were surprised when Ryouma-kun walked in the room. He didn't seem that much different, but he seemed like he was zoned out, as if thinking very hard about something, though still a bit aware of where he was going. What freaked us out though, was that when he got to his desk, Ryouma-kun's movements were enough to raise his sleeves a bit, and although no one else saw them, Horio-kun, Katsuo-kun and I clearly did: on Ryouma-kun's wrists were newly wrapped gauze, with a taint shade of pink on them which seemed to reach beyond his elbow...

Our simultaneous gasps brought the classroom's attention to the three of us, but thankfully Katsuo-kun came up with a fair enough excuse. "Oh, no! We forgot to rent the books at the library yesterday!!! I'll go get them!" He said, his act convincing even me, to the point I had to slap myself mentally to realize it was just a cover-up... really, his acting was good!

When things settled down a bit, both Horio-kun and I looked at each other and realized that this wasn't the best time to ask Ryouma-kun anything, so we settled for just observing him until break time arrived.

Of course, during the next three periods, our 1st-year tennis prodigy started, as he had been for weeks now, snapping off and going to his own world... weirdest thing was the teachers either didn't notice or gave up trying to bring him back...

* * *

We never got the chance to ask him anything... not for a whole week. Whenever we tried to approach him, Ryouma-kun just never seemed to be able to get on the same planet we are... talking to someone who's not listening is really just a pointless waste of time, so we let that pass...

That is, until he came with a large red mark on his face a few days later... and that's when we decided not to hold ourselves back anymore. Something very weird and definitely dangerous was going on with Ryouma-kun and if we didn't find out what it was, if we didn't help him soon enough, we may regret the consequences later.

So, when he went to the restroom during break time that day, I followed him a minute later, so as not to arouse many suspicions...

Of course, I never expected to find Ryouma-kun with a razor blade in his hands...

A razor blade from which dripped a red liquid...

* * *

I froze, totally paralyzed at the sight before me.

Ryouma-kun's gaze slowly rose from the blade in his hand to meet my mine, and I let out a gasp.

His eyes, which usually shined with malice and sarcasm, they were... totally glazed over...

Totally lifeless...

**END of 1st SERVICE – TOUCHED THE NET: PRESENT SURPRISE**

A.N.: There, I told you I was going to twist the story completely, and watch – uh, read – it gets worse!

If you didn't understand the chapter title, I'm referring to the services of a point. Usually, the server gets two tries before the point is decided (either by an ace or by scoring); but if the ball (on either service) touches the net and still gets to its target (the opponent's respective small court), it's not a point, but the said server gets to try again. This can go on until the ball either fails to hit the correct side of the other court or gets caught on the net. The reference to that is that the second chapter is the same as this one, thus it's the second try of the first service, except this time it will be on Ryouma-sama's POV.

Syaoran-Lover aka KaiLi signing out!


	2. Historical Problems

A.N.: Ryouma-sama's POV of last chapter!

Oh, I warn you, though this has _some_ medical/psychological backup theories, I'm not an expert nor student on this matter, so anything in Psychology or something here is either things I've created or that I've picked up somewhere in my ever short lifetime so far…

JAPANESE DICTIONARY

_Nitoryuu_ – ambidextrous

_Oyaji _– how Ryouma-sama calls his dad (literally means "old man" or something)

_Kaasan_ – how Ryouma-sama refers to his mother

To the person who reviewed the prequel to this fic (_**Attack on Ochibi-chan!**_) as anonymous under / here's my answer: first, I hope you read this sequel, 'cause you didn't leave me a clue to your e-mail and I can't answer otherwise, so… "_no Ouji-sama_" means "_Prince of_" ("_Ouji_" means "prince", "_-sama_" is that traditional honorific for people who have a higher hierarchy than you, and "_no_" in this case means "of" as). Hope that clears it! Feel happy to e-mail me for better reference/explanation if I didn't do a very good job here!

To Craze Izumi (I think that was you, wasn't it? oO): I can't really put more than three chapters as I've already written the whole fic as a _threeshot_… even the chapter titles were arranged for that, so I'm sorry. If it serves as a consolation, this chapter is incredibly long for my standards! '''

**WATCH OVER OCHIBI-CHAN!**

**1st SERVICE, 2nd TRY – CAUGHT ON NET: HISTORICAL PROBLEMS**

I watched the others play from the classroom window and uncharacteristically a sigh escapes my mouth.

Three months already, and still my wrists hadn't healed. It was not only boring, it was ridiculously depressing to not be able to play my sport, the one thing I really feel comfortable with doing…

My gaze shifts from the bouncy students below to my wrists, still wrapped by now yellowish gauze. This thing not only feels very itchy, though I'm able to ignore it, but it constantly triggers back memories I never thought of for the last seven years.

Memories my mind had suppressed and that I had completely forgotten.

But now, without having my only effective distraction, the nightmares have come back when I sleep, making me relive some of those past events. Though I feel I haven't quite remembered everything yet, I truly don't wish to learn anything more than what they have already shown me. Because of these bad dreams, it's been almost two weeks since the last time I had a good night's sleep, this being a good part of the explanation as to why I've been feeling so light-headed and weak lately.

I was able to hold on for two months while we all waited for them to get better, though it's been some time since I last saw the other regulars, but I knew from that promise they'd made that they would be waiting.

I actually survived two more weeks besides the two estimated months, though my body greatly started feeling weary, weak, and my senses seemed to have dimmed a bit.

But then those nightmares started haunting me and I've been forced to remain silent about them: if I said anything at home, either they'd just laugh or they'd get extremely worried, to the point of trapping me at home or something. I know because those dreams don't seem to be just some creation from my mind, I can feel they're real, or better yet, that they were my reality at some point back, and thus I know what my family's reactions would be if I told them again, like I did when all this happened before… just like the dreams told me.

And I see it again and again every night; these horrible memories won't stop haunting me, torturing me out of sleep. I know that by now, I'm living in a daze, a world where I don't know what is reality and what was it, my body keeps bringing me to and from both worlds, sometimes I can barely tell if I'm awake or dozing off.

I just wish these wrists would heal soon enough so I can get back to playing tennis and block these horrible visions all over again.

But somehow, I also feel that I'm far from getting rid of this curse.

* * *

Four months already passed… and this has become pathetic.

My body's weakening without the exercise I need. The doctor made it clear that I shouldn't have any kind of exercises, that I should limit myself to the schoolwork.

But I've learned, from those dreams, that my force is tennis.

I've learned from these truthful visions more than I needed to remember… including the fact that tennis was the one thing that was able to give me the strength I needed to survive years ago, when I went through all that process.

Suddenly, I'm in that world again, the scenes playing before me in a rapid display, almost causing me a headache, but not so fast that I couldn't see them all over again.

The accident, the consequences, _oiyaji_'s seemingly innocent jokes… they all summed up to create what happened.

I couldn't walk; my lower body was completely paralyzed after that truck ran me over on my bike.

The hospital where I woke up in… my parents around the bed I was sleeping on, eyes widening in relief when they saw I had woken up…

When they told me that I'd lost all movements from my waist down.

The satisfaction on their faces when the drunk teenager who was driving the said truck was sentenced to jail for at least 8 years or so…

All the efforts I made to be able to at least stand up again…

_Oiyaji's_ taunting words…

The day I saw him play tennis… and his shock when I asked to play it too…

The joy I found in playing it, even though I could barely support myself…

The perseverance I had to show in order to have my body heal enough to play it…

And how the sport, or better, the joy of it helped me overcome that barrier many deemed impossible to bring down.

How my body slowly started to develop as I played…

All the tournaments I faced, each of them making me stronger…

And, of course, all the psychological side-affects the whole process brought down on me…

"But that's one thing I don't even want to remember," I think to myself as I suppress a shudder, only then noticing that I'm already halfway home.

Like I said, it's been difficult to know what's reality and what was reality. My body's been doing everything automatically lately, which, obviously, doesn't help much when my eyes refuse to see the real world and only show me the dreamland I've been traveling to so much. That's why I've been pretty much bumping on everything in the way, and the only reason I know that's what happens, even if I don't feel anything, is because my body feels all sore when I get home, a few bruises obvious on my white skin.

It's strange though, that when I get home, it's like I get to be myself for some time, at least I don't doze off when I'm there, but the dreams come full force at night… usually showing me the scenes that almost

Those memories were definitely the worst; the way I've been acting lately is strangely close to that pattern, which only makes me more frightful, knowing what I'm up against, but not knowing how to fight it back… knowing that if the near future brought me face-to-face with the same situation again, I wouldn't have the strength to fight it back down again…

* * *

Another month went by… and I've been snoozing even in the tests now, which, for sure, brings all attention on me. I haven't been let in peace at home, they've noticed a long time ago already that something's wrong, but I refuse to admit what's going on.

Satoshi and the others think I haven't noticed they've been watching me. My senses have decreased significantly, but they're more obvious than they know. I'm sure my grades must have caused them a greater reaction: they looked at me in the weirdest way before running off altogether when they saw the charts…

And I haven't seen the other regulars for quite a long time now…

* * *

I've been feeling strangely weird… even more so…

And I know what the cause for this is.

My feet… better yet, my ankles, which were naturally weak, their condition worsened by the accident, without playing tennis… they're losing all the strength I was able to gain by pursuing the sport all these years… it took me more than a year to have them ready to run for an entire set, yet it took only a little less than a few months to lose all the efforts.

And now, I'm limping… and that's why I'm feeling weird. Of course, years ago I had been used to it, but now, after such a long time of actually being normal, it feels very strange to be limping again.

And I know it can get worse; if I don't get back to playing soon, I know limping isn't the only thing I'll be doing again…

And yet everyone refuses to let me even _near_ a tennis court…

* * *

When I got home, my parents had the weirdest look on their faces, Karupin seemed to be recoiled into a far corner and my cousin was nowhere to seen… I had the faint feeling she was in the kitchen making dinner.

They asked me what was wrong with me as I slipped of my sneakers and walked stepped inside the house. Since I hadn't changed my mind about telling them, the answer was my usual careless shrug, but it seemed neither _oyaji_ nor _kaasan_ were going to accept it any farther. The latter was the first to advance. He gripped my arm fiercely and I was barely aware of his face coming a breath's distance to mine.

"What the hell is wrong with you, brat!" He asked impatiently.

Typical.

Another shrug from me and his face turned into a furious expression, which didn't faze mine in any way. I was hell bent in not telling, not after I remembered being caged in my own bedroom for days the last time I felt like this. I knew my mind was slowly slipping out, that I was slowly "losing it", but I couldn't avoid it; those thoughts called out to me like magnets, it was almost like they were a part of me, and, in a way, they were, except I was still resisting their temptations… still trying to block out they ordered me to do, though I'd been feeling quite tempted to comply.

He let me go, I think because he knows how stubborn I could be. With impassive eyes I announced I wasn't going to eat today either and headed to my room, locking the door after Karupin walked in, following me, and settled itself on the cushions at one of the corners.

Dropping my schoolbag on my desk, I started undressing; first, my pants, quickly changing into dark green shorts, and then the black long-sleeved shirt of the uniform, lingering a bit as it slipped of my other arm and to the floor. I stood there, chest bare, in the middle of my room, looking at the clear skin the clothing had revealed, _my_ white skin… spotless, at least until it reached the gauze on my wrist. I was engulfed my temptation as I looked steadily at it.

I knew it wasn't right, that it was madness, but the impulse was greater than my will…

And I realized at that moment I was losing the battle against the dreams… the memories. Those thought were coming back, bringing back the same impulse that had dominated me then… and like that time, I couldn't resist it either.

My curiosity got the better of me as tried to imagine what clear skin could reveal if I "opened" it. It was a crazy thought, yet I still stood there thinking about it, until my body started acting by itself.

Unlocking the door and stepping through it, I quietly went to the kitchen, taking good care not to be heard by the others as they talked in the sitting room… had I taken that long undressing that they'd already finished eating and were now just chatting? Apparently not that much, I concluded, as I saw the table still set, but nothing touched. Opening the drawer, I found a relatively sharp knife, though nothing too drastic, after all, I was only going to experiment something, and it wasn't like I was suicidal, not again.

Gripping the metallic object tightly, I walked back to my room and shut the door behind me. I looked at my still bare upper body; its spotless light skin practically begging the knife to touch it gracefully.

And I obliged.

First thing I did was just a light touch, the cold blade giving me delicious chills. Only when those goosebumps subsided did I start the real test. Initially, it was just a small point made by the tip of the utensil, as if, instead, a needle had pricked me, and then I started sliding it down the arm, almost until it reached the inner part of my elbow, where I stopped moving the object and lifted it away, my hand dropping by my side with it.

And then I just stood there, looking intently at the art I created.

Indeed, liquid red does match quite well with peachy skin. It's a beautiful combination.

So I repeated the process on my other arm, the _nitoryuu_ style I played tennis with helping greatly at this task.

The drops of my river of life rolled on my arm and eventually fell to the floor, where they were gathering to form a little puddle, which my gaze reverted to, and I looked at it for a long time, completely oblivious to the world.

* * *

I repeated the process many times during the next three weeks, the knife now stored in my backpack so I could use it whenever I wanted to, no matter where I was. At school, I sometimes used the bathroom to entertain myself with it.

Because I knew the risks, I did everything hidden, when no one was near and where the no one could see, cleaning up everything when my "playtime" was over; however, I'm quite sure Horio and the others noticed the bandages in my arms, I caught their wide eyes on it once and they'd been looking at it since. I've noticed they've been trying to talk to me, probably about the gauge and everything, but eventually I zone out into my nightmares, and their words quickly become mere whispers of the wind to my ears.

I didn't want to talk about this anyway…

* * *

Each day I cut a little deeper, after all, it was just an experiment… still.

But no matter how much I waited, the puddle the drops made as they fell were always so small, it wouldn't get much bigger no matter how many drops joined it… perhaps I had been cutting too shallowly? Yes, that must have been it, and I was just about to correct that when I heard the door open with a loud noise, the big piece of wood banging against the wall.

I guess I forgot to lock it when I returned and whoever came in didn't seem to feel discrete at the moment.

The knife still in my hand by my side, I turned around slowly and saw _oyaji_ standing there, a shocked expression on his features, and both my cousin and _kaasan_ behind him, terrified expression on theirs.

I'm pretty sure my gaze was unfocused then, because I had only the red liquid in mind, and because, once again, I never saw _oyaji_ move towards me, his fist landing squarely on my cheek, marking it for what I knew would be days before it disappeared.

_Kaasan_ screamed.

My cousin gasped, hiding her eyes behind her hands.

And the impact I received was so sudden and strong on my frail body, that it flew back until I banged with a loud "_crack_" on my wooden desk, the air temporarily knocked out of me.

My cousin didn't change anything in her position and _oyaji_ also seemed to be paralyzed after hitting me, though his eyes never left my frame. However, after getting out of her stupor, _kaasan_ ran towards me, hugging my body close to hers as she nestled my head nestled on her soft chest.

And I actually felt something warm and wet drop on my cheeks, right before everything faded away, my vision becoming hazy and the nightmares were displayed, yet again, before me.

* * *

I woke up the next day, as usual, late for school. Running to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and took a very quick shower. Only when I was putting on my uniform did I notice new bandages on both my wrists… ones that followed all the way up to my biceps.

There was a small pinkish stain on the two, right where my blood mostly flowed about.

I stood there staring a bit, but I soon snapped back and finished undressing in such a hurry, I never looked in the mirror to check how I was, otherwise I would have noticed the big red mark on my cheek.

Running out of my room, I drank all my juice in one go, and headed out as fast as my feet could carry me, though that wouldn't mean a lot at this point. I was still limping, obviously, and my ankles were no longer strong enough to support my weight if I ran too fast.

Still, to my slow state, it was still fast, enough for me to never even see anyone as I exited the house, though I'm sure I heard _kaasan_'s distressed call.

But I couldn't stop now.

And as I ran back to the school, the memories of what happened last night finally dawned on me; at least I knew why my face was hurting like hell. But if it had hurt that much, one good thing it did do: I seemed to be less dazed than I had been the last few weeks.

A little, but at least it was enough for me to remember that I was late and consciously run towards the school.

Even if my ankles were begging me to stop.

* * *

When I approached the building, I thought back to what I had been doing, and what _oyaji_ had done last night. Finally, I remembered passing out in _kaasan_'s arms, and something making my face wet before everyone was erased from my view.

_Kaasan_'s tears…

She had cried when she held me… and I couldn't help but ask myself… why?

Why was she crying? Because _oyaji_ had hit me?

Then again, why _had_ he hit me in the first place? Oh yes, they had seen the floor stained with my blood. It was no big deal, I could wipe it off soon after, just like I had been doing every time I decided to use the knife on myself.

She couldn't possibly be upset because of that, could she?

Or maybe, it was something else… oh yes, slowly, I remember, memories from the previous time, when they had found me almost dead on the floor back in America.

She cried that time too.

I remember the last scene I saw before fading out back then: it was her, _kaasan_'s face drowned by tears as she looked trembling at me. At that time, when I woke up again days later, I was in a hospital, and she was there by my side. She told me I had nearly killed myself, but that I had been saved with some effort from the doctors.

She also said that I would have to attend some sort of psychological assistance for the crazy people who attempted suicides… of course, _kaasan_ hadn't phrased it that way, but blankly said, that was it.

And I would still be there, attending the stupid "lessons", if I hadn't discovered _oyaji_ practicing tennis one day when I came home early from school. Initially, since I was very weak, I could barely swing the racket, and that was enough to drown me into sadness at my incapability, but as I began to progress at the sport, determined to master it, even my psychologists advised the family to encourage me to it, though the orthopedists believed I'd never get anywhere with it because of my weak body… but to their surprise and my joy, my body seemed to agree with the idea of practicing tennis, because it began to improve considerably as I played it.

And both the psychologists and the orthopedists practically made it an order that I never stopped playing. I heard their explanation once, when they were telling my parents about it once they thought I was already in bed… except I had woken up to get a glass of water in the middle of my slumber and accidentally heard them…

They said it was a reaction my body seemed to create in order to block the suicide attempt and the whole depression case, so it would not happen again… it seems that was also the reason I forgot about the whole incident until "recently": tennis blocked away those memories in order for my mind and body to be safe.

Tennis gave me strength and confidence, two things I never even dreamed of having before I started playing it. I think that's when my ego burst too.

Still, I can't understand why, after all these years, just because I stopped playing, why had I succumbed so easily to cutting myself? Even without tennis to help me block out the memories, I shouldn't have gone down that easily…

I was still trying to figure out why exactly I had given in that fast to the urge when I entered my classroom, and, as usual, Horio and the others were already there. This time, they seemed surprised when they looked at me, but I gave it no second thought, my mind was busy enough already with the question at hand.

And that's what my reasoning took me back to… why was it that I had succumbed so easily? Maybe my will had decreased too; was it possible that all my qualities were tied to that sport?

But still, I don't get what was so wrong about what I did, the body is mine, I can do with it whatever I want, can't I? And I really enjoyed the sensation the knife gave me every time it touched my skin and pierced through it…

In fact, I'm missing that sensation even now… I wish I could do that right here, in the middle of the classroom, but I'm sure the others wouldn't understand, not to mention my parents would know immediately anyway, and I don't feel like facing them again this soon.

A loud sound seemed to wake me from my reverie, and I realized it was the school bell. By the movement in the room, I guessed it was lunchtime already, so I quickly got up and headed towards the bathroom, one that nearly no one ever went to, mainly because it was usually out of use.

Great, that suited me perfectly.

As I entered, I didn't even bother to hide or anything, nobody had gone there since the day I discovered this isolated bathroom anyway.

Reaching inside one of the pockets of my uniform pants, I found the pocketknife I had gotten a while ago. The knife I had been using until last night was probably out of my reach by now, but anticipating a situation like that, I'd bought one or two small ones that did the jog pretty nicely too. One of those was now in my hand, ripping the other arm's skin even further, a new wound appearing on it.

It's funny, I've done this many times, but that beautiful shade of red never ceases to amaze me, I wonder what it would feel like if I cut my throat? Would I feel it? Would I have time to see what shade of red would come out before I was gone forever? Was it even worth not experiencing that? I could tell that by the time my wrists healed, I'd probably be thirty or something… a miracle doesn't happen twice.

And such a miracle had already happened once to me… I had managed to heal years ago thanks to playing tennis, but now, that possibility was out of reach, and tennis is my life, or better, it was my lifeline.

If I can't play tennis, maybe I shouldn't even exist.

Tennis is all I'm good for.

Tennis is all I ever want to do.

Tennis is what I want to live for.

Tennis is what I won't be able to do… not anymore.

So why live?

And if I didn't want to live any longer, why not end my life in an interesting experience? Like finding out what shade of red comes out of my throat when I cut it?

I really wanted to know that, and I was about to find out, when, to my surprise, Kachirou walked inside the bathroom.

And then I wasn't the only surprised one in there, I noticed, as his eyes went wider than ever the moment they landed on my stained pocketknife.

The pocketknife I had stained with my own blood.

**END of 1st SERVICE, 2nd TRY – CAUGHT ON NET: HISTORICAL PROBLEMS**

A.N.: Was that too heavy… or perhaps too lame?

If you got confused on Ryouma-sama's trail of thoughts, then that's great… it's not supposed to be stable, remember he's a bit out of it at this point!

Oh, and a warning: I'm _NOT_ intently encouraging anyone to go suicidal, leave that to the characters! You know, there's really nothing wrong with violence, suicide and all that heavy stuff, as long as you _don't_ take it to the outside world. It's great if you like angst and drama, but please don't encourage anyone to practice these things in reality. It's a crime, it's a sin… and quite frankly, it's disgustingly sad. If the suicide idea comes from you, hey, it's your life, just think about what you're doing really well before you take any drastic measures, but please _DON'T PURSUADE_ anyone to do it. If possible, please do try to preach against it. Any kind of violence is no longer acceptable in the world we live in today, and I sincerely hope we will someday reach a time when people won't even know what it is…

"_The greatest gift in life is life itself, so don't give up on it… live it to its fullest._"

That said/typed, I hope you can give all my rambling a little thought!

Since I didn't have the time to give this a throughout check/editing, though that doesn't mean I won't do it sometime in the future, if you find _ANY_ mistakes here, please report them to me!

Syaoran-Lover aka KaiLi signing out!


	3. Current Lifeline

A.N.: Phew! Contrary to popular belief, I'm **not** dead. And don't worry, unless I die, and I'm planning to have someone in charge of my account by then, I won't leave a fic unfinished.

So, here's the **last** chapter of this _threeshot_!

This one's in Mizuno Katsuo's POV, thetaller boy of the first-year male trio (quartet if you count Ryouma-sama, of course).

To T.k.: Well, there won't be a sequel, unless I _do_ write other _oneshots_ that _may_ come after this one, but that would take a while. Mostly I'm planning those _oneshots_, **if** they ever get typed at all, to be the couples type, so it won't go well with this fic. I hope this ending satisfies you enough, though!

**WATCH OVER OCHIBI-CHAN!**

**2nd SERVICE – ACE POINT: CURRENT LIFELINE**

Horio-kun and I immediately followed Kachirou-kun once we saw he had followed Ryouma-kun.

Surprisingly, we wound up in a rather isolated part of the school… what was Ryouma-kun doing in such a place?

We saw him enter a bathroom, the one no one really uses, after all, why and how would anyone use a bathroom that is always out of use?

Ryouma-kun seemed to have found a reason…

Except it had nothing to do with what we thought it could be…

When we entered it, the three of us came face-to-face with the ex-regular, a bloody metal object in his hand…

And blood was dropping from both his arms…

We stood there speechless, both parties staring at one another, scratch that, Ryouma-kun was looking at us through indifferent eyes, and we were staring at him as one through startled gazes.

And so we remained until, suddenly, he turned around and walked towards the sink, where he cleaned both the pocketknife with one swift motion and his bleeding arm with a bit of more water, drying them with the paper from the metal box the sink.

For an abandoned toilet, this one was sure was pretty equipped.

Dropping the wet papers into the trashcan, Ryouma-kun headed out, the now clean pocketknife slipping into one of the pockets of his pants. By then, the look in his eyes was once again one that indicated his mind was somewhere else.

And it took us a good few minutes to realize that so was his body.

The school bell rang, indicating it was time for us to return to our classes…

And we dashed out of the place in one big human mess.

* * *

We would have gone after the regulars at the locker room, but by this time, they were probably already in their classes, and we had no right, nor time, to go after them… and Ryouma-kun didn't seem that bad, so we guessed it would be OK to wait until the end of the classes.

Except we never expected that it would take so long!

To the three of us, those three hours seemed to take forever until they _finally_ ended; the bell hadn't even stopped ringing when Kachirou-kun, Horio-kun and I were already halfway to get the _senpais_; we wanted to be there before any club activity started.

At least that didn't go wrong.

When we got there, there was no one at the place. The three of us stumbled on the ground to catch our breaths, much like what we had done six months ago, when we came to alert the regulars that the Towamirai tennis team was assaulting Ryouma-kun.

That's how we waited for them at the locker room.

And that's how the regulars found us when they arrived about seven minutes later, except our heavy breathing had subsided, but we were still nervously sitting on the floor.

"What happened?" Oishi-senpai asked us, slight amusement obvious.

"Echizen… he…" Horio-kun started, "Katou followed him to the toilet, and Mizuno and I followed both of them."

"_Senpais_," Kachirou-kun interrupted, standing up and heading towards the older students. "It was horrible! When I entered the toilet, there was blood on the ground and Ryouma-kun… I was so scared!"

"WHAT!" Some of the regulars asked at once, surprised.

"What happened to _ochibi-chan_?" Kikumaru-senpai asked, whining.

"He, well, he stopped when we came in, which was almost at the end of lunchtime by then, it took us so long to find him!" I explained. "But, there was a pocketknife in his hand, the blade was so red… and his arm was soaked with blood."

"That's not everything!" Horio-kun added, "There's something going on, we saw his wrists heavily bandaged last week, and the gauge goes all the way up to his forearm! We saw it today when we walked in on him in the toilet; his uniform shirt was off. Even though it was that much bandaged, there was still so much blood…" he trailed off, the three of us visibly shuddering at the memory.

"And today, his face had a large red mark on it. I think he was hit or something," I concluded.

The _senpais_ looked thoughtful for a moment, but our _buchou_ quickly decided what action to take. "Leave the other third-years in charge today, we're going to follow Echizen and get some answers. Oishi, go tell them that and hurry! We'll wait for you at the school entrance, but be sure not to be seen by Echizen if you guys cross paths!"

"Understood! Excuse me," Osihi-senpai said, and in seconds he was gone.

The rest of us headed, as quietly as possible, to the school entrance, so as to keep watch and not let Ryouma-kun go home unnoticed.

Not today.

And Oishi-senpai showed up quickly enough, panting a bit as he had been running to not miss anything.

* * *

We followed him for a good fifteen minutes, all observing his unusual behavior, though the regulars were more surprised, since they hadn't seen Echizen lately… and we had.

The first thing we noticed wrong was the red spot on his face when he passed by the school gates in order to go home.

The second thing we noticed was the fact that he was limping all the way.

When he turned around at one point, and we immediately snuck into the corner we were about to pass by, we noticed the dazed look in his eyes.

The he turned around facing us, trying to reach towards something that wasn't there. We froze, somewhat afraid Ryouma-kun had caught us, since he was looking straight in our direction right after the whole group left the safety of the corner. Perhaps he was in the middle of a daydream, because even though he was facing us, Ryouma-kun's eyes seemed to indicate that he was looking right _through_ us, not acknowledging our presence; we saw how his hands trembled with the mere effort of raising it… more so than it normally should have.

Coincidentally or not, it started raining exactly at that point; a light rain, but it was getting us all wet none-the-less.

Perhaps we could have seen more, but Ryouma-kun let the hand drop at his side and turned around, resuming his path. He'd walked a few more blocks and was suddenly surrounded… by none other than the members of the Towamirai team themselves.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The tallest of them asked mockingly.

"If it isn't the little impertinent fool that cost us the championship?" Said another player who had piercings all over his body.

Ryouma-kun didn't seem to notice them though; he just continued walking and didn't even lift his head to glance at them.

It was like he hadn't acknowledged their presence, and though we knew that was exactly it, I'm sure the other team thought he was just purposely ignoring them… and that certainly made them even angrier.

"Hey, you," another of the members shouted, gripping Ryouma-kun by the back of the collar of his uniform. This guy seemed to be the captain of the group. "Listen when people are talking to you, you little brat!"

"Calm down," reasoned a fourth member with long hair, "the poor boy must be surprised to find us here, that's all," he said sarcastically.

"Indeed," replied the one who still held Ryouma-kun in his hold, "do you think he might want to know how we showed up here?"

A fifth member with a crinkled uniform stepped forward. "I'll gladly explain it to him; it was because we were going after you, kid; we were just on our way to your school to have the pleasure to meet you again."

"Yeah," said a sixth member with a very toned body. "Our first encounters really left us missing being with you."

The last member came closer, completing the circle formed around Ryouma-kun and his captor, "Aren't you happy, kid?"

"That doesn't matter, we should be happy that he came to us this easily, it spares us the trouble."

The tallest member came closer, adrenaline clearly pulsing in his veins. "That's enough of a pep talk, now let's start the real fun!" He said, crackling his knuckles, intentions clear.

"Indeed," completed the guy with piercing, also cracking his. "Let's finish the job," he said, advancing a fist towards Ryouma-kun's face.

It never hit, though.

I don't know how fast our regulars moved, but the guy was on the floor not a second after the words had escaped his mouth, hugging his stomach dearly.

And the Seigaku Tennis Team Regulars were standing there as one, like a firm and unbreakable wall; all of their eyes, including Fuji-senpai's, deadly serious, glares straight towards the opposite team.

Kaidou-senpai was the first to speak. "Stay away from our school's lower-grade students or you'll regret it!" He said menacingly, his glare so intense, that the Towamirai members were unconsciously forced to give a step back.

After a few seconds, the longhaired guy recovered enough to speak again, a smirk making its way on his face. "You're referring to this kid?" He asked, feigning innocence, as he gave Ryouma-kun a violent shake.

And that was it.

Momo-chan-senpai was the first to advance; being the closest to Ryouma-kun, I wouldn't have expected any less.

His fist connected to the captain's face and sent the guy flying back towards a pole with such strength, the concrete object curved a bit; Ryouma-kun was hurled against the wooden plates of the fence beside the post.

Pretty soon, the others were brought down by Kaidou-senpai, Kikumaru-senpai, Momo-chan-senpai and Kawamura-senpai, even if the latter still apologized after hitting them.

He was a polite person, but there were things he obviously wouldn't allow, like just remain still watching a fellow team member being abused right before his eyes.

The other _senpais_ stood there watching, clearly not going to take such measures, but very satisfied that someone was giving the assailants a taste of their own medicine.

Yes, _violence is not the answer_, I'm sure that was on their minds right now, but sometimes, when people cross all limits, one can only stand so much.

While they faced the others, Horio-kun, Kachirou-kun and I hurried over to where Echizen was propped up. He was still awake, but the look in his eyes instantly told us he wasn't even aware of what was going on, or what had happened to him just seconds ago.

Sad, but true.

When the _senpais_ were finished, they quickly came over.

"Is he alright?" Fuji-senpai asked worried.

"He's awake, if that's what you're asking, but he hasn't been alright for a long time now," I answered him.

The others nodded and knelt down in front of him. "This is what we wanted to show you," I started a bit hesitantly, after all, I didn't have the right to make this public, but I just wanted to help a friend. My mind made up, I grabbed one of Ryouma-kun's arms and leveled it up, pushing back the sleeve and eliciting a gasp from the regulars as we all looked at the red bandages. "Both his arms are like this. It's serious, _senpais_, something's happening," I said, nearly mutely.

"They're worse than this morning," Katsuo-kun whispered almost to himself.

We redirected our eyes to the injured player's face, and were surprised to see, only now, that it was very pale. Most of its usual color was gone from it, probably due to the loss of blood he had surely been suffering.

Right then, his eyes faltered a little… and closed.

He had lost consciousness.

I was about to shout something, but Inui-senpai beat me to it, "First of all, let's get him out of this rain. He's sick already and surely this isn't doing him any good."

Tezuka-buchou scooped the sleeping first-year in his arms and ran towards the Echizen residence, all ten of us following right behind him.

* * *

All I can say is that his family was looking very distressed, standing on the porch as they waited for him, when we came into view.

Their eyes jumped like leaping frogs and turned as big as our tennis balls when their visions landed on the boy in our captain's arms.

* * *

We entered the house carefully so as not to soak it and were grateful when Ryouma-kun's mother brought towels, handing them one at a time to each of us. Before the captain got his, he placed our first-year player in his father's arms carefully, only then turning to take the last towel from the awaiting hands.

When we were finally considerably dry, they guided us inside the house, leading us to Ryouma-kun's room, where his father carefully placed him on the bed. We looked a bit around, some of us not very discretely…

Tennis pros posters, tennis balls, tennis rackets, tennis this, tennis that… was tennis all Ryouma-kun cared about! His room sure didn't seem to deny that. I wouldn't really find it weird if his cat suddenly started standing on its two hind legs and played the sport too…

But, when we got a hold of ourselves once more, most of our gazes went back to the sleeping boy's face, and we were all surprised to only then realize that his sleeping face was so… different. Of course, when you're not awake, your body relaxes and obviously that includes your face muscles, but it just never occurred to us that our young player could look so… innocent.

Again, weird.

* * *

We filed out of his room quietly, so as not to awaken him. Arriving at the living room for a second time, we didn't give his family an opportunity to kick us out… that was our chance to find out what was going on with Ryouma-kun and we certainly wouldn't let it slip through our hands that easily.

Neither would the _senpais_…

Tezuka-buchou took the lead, immediately taking a step forward and, using that business voice and stand of his, he asked Nanjirou Echizen the question that had been plaguing our minds lately…

"Excuse me, but we've noticed these last few months that Echizen hasn't been himself as of late and his friends here are worried about him; that's why we followed him and were able to help him back. Unfortunately, we can't seem to figure out what could be wrong, and as captain of this team, I seriously think it is my duty to ask you: what is the problem with Echizen?"

And after his words, the whole room fell silent, Nanjirou's eyes studying each and every one of us as if we were spies from another country threatening to take a hold of Japan… or destroy it. He seemed to be analyzing us, as if trying to make some kind of judgment…

After a few long and uncomfortable minutes, he finally replied. "All right, I believe you. You do seem to be, in fact, worried about my son, so I'll give you some answers, but I want you to promise that you'll keep an eye on him, as neither of us can do that all the time."

The captain nodded, and so did we.

And the ex-tennis pro explained to us how Ryouma-kun had been born with many physical faults and serious psychological tendencies, though the latter had only turned into a problem when, back in the United States, he had suffered an accident and become even more physically limited, leading to a serious case of inferiority and, consequently, depression.

His mother complimented on other facts, like how Ryouma-kun had tried suicide back then and was almost successful… how they had been so scared when they found him fainting on the floor of his room, surrounded by his own blood, which had been flowing from both wrists then. She said it was only then they discovered that he had been mutilating himself for weeks before finally attempting at something more drastic. They had been forced to lock him at home for even more weeks after that before the psychological assistance finally told them that Ryouma-kun could be given a bit more freedom.

And at that time, he had found his father playing tennis at the backyard, something he had never seen before, as the ex-pro had always done it hidden from his son, afraid that it would upset his child because he wouldn't be able to play it due to his natural limits.

However, that had been the miracle, tennis had become his lifeline. With his father's constant taunting, Ryouma-kun had become determined to play it, and he insisted so much, he ignored the doctors' orders and practiced it daily so much, that his body seemed to have understood the message and decided to give him a hand. Of course, scientifically speaking, what happened was not like this at all, but in blunt way, that had been the story. With his constant playing, Ryouma-kun was able to surpass his natural physical and psychological barriers with the help of tennis; it helped him build a strong body and give him enough confidence to trust himself to do other things, eventually evolving to create a large ego.

As the doctors had explained to them, this ego of his, which had grown ridiculously big, although not lacking any backup proof, had burst in order to protect him from going through the same situation again, blocking out his depressive psychological tendencies.

Ryouma-kun had, since then, practically lived for tennis, which explained his room, but it had all been ruined by the Towamirai team when they broke his wrists, thus making him unable to play any longer, reviving past nightmares for his family and him.

At that point, I'm sure the _senpais_ suddenly wished they had pounded those bullies into ashes; the looks on their faces were _really_ scary, as in a new way to think "_killer look_".

Then, Ryouma-kun's family made us a request after finishing our first-year ex-regular's story, telling us how they had caught him cutting himself again the night before, and how his father had ended up slapping him in his frustration, clearing up thoughts about the red mark on his face.

I seriously thought he might have caught some skin cancer or something, not wanting to believe my own words back at the locker room that Ryouma-kun had been hit. Stupid, I know, but those had been my thoughts when no one knew what it was yet.

Ryouma-kun's mother's words brought me out of my reverie, "Please, keep an eye on him, don't let him do anything foolish. If he tries it again, stop him at all costs, give him support, but most of all, don't let his will for tennis die… it's the only thing that keeps him alive… please, encourage him to it," she asked us, tears falling as she spoke.

We nodded, all of us, accepting the task given to us, but we were plainly aware that it wasn't easy, as Ryouma-kun was already in a serious condition; the dazed look his eyes showed now more often than not, they were just a small hint to the fact that we were losing him… and fast.

* * *

Of course we couldn't all stay at the Echizen residence, and if anyone stayed, it would seem suspicious to him, so the _senpais_ decided to take turns picking him up and walking him to school, in a random order, as well as following him back home as soundlessly as possible, just in case.

And of course, we had a lot of trouble to keep up with him: he kept disappearing at the strangest times, showing up in the strangest places, always with a look on his face that seemed like he was more and more farther away from us… perhaps out of our reach, but we somehow always managed to bring him back.

At times, we almost did give up, Ryouma-kun was not himself; it seemed weird to us to be around someone we had known for some time already, though that person seemed completely like a stranger. It felt weird, it felt wrong, but most of all, it felt frustratingly torturous.

The fact that he was healing so slowly was already getting to us too, after all, all he needed was for those wrists to at least be able to move again without the risk of cracking the bones once more, but they seemed to be taunting us as they took forever to progress.

All through it, he did continue the mutilation on his own body, even though we tried so much to avoid it, as did his family at home, but he always found some way to dribble our watchful eyes, despite the fact that he was barely aware of our presence anymore. It was as if the hiding had become mechanical, just like the routine to and back from school had become…

Several times we stopped him from ending his own life, from cutting, from being beaten… the Towamirai team seemed to really have taken a liking to pursuit him, but once they realized that the regulars were keeping an eye on the first-year player, they gave up and let him in peace, not that the Momo-chan-senpai and the others stopped protecting Ryouma-kun anyway…

But, somewhere along that path, Ryouma-kun's distant mind seemed to hear our silent pleas, to unconsciously acknowledge our silent efforts, until two agonizing months and a half later, he _finally_ recovered his senses somewhat, which brought great relief to all of us, friends and family. After that, his recovery seemed to suddenly decide to happen, I guess because he willed those wrists to heal or something like that, and about three weeks later, he was ready to start practicing again.

Right now, Kachirou-kun, Horio-kun and I are watching him practice, slowly, so as to get his body used to all the movement once more, but it seems this time it won't take as long as it took when something similar happened back in the United States. He seems to be doing pretty well, we can see that in the _senpais_' faces, especially Inui-senpai's: when Ryouma-kun didn't do as good as the regulars' _data expert_ expected him to, the younger player had to drink a whole glass of one of those weird mixes.

But there was an obvious thankful gleam in Ryouma-kun's eyes every time he looked at the _senpais_, but because his attitude was back too, he would never really say anything other than an arrogant comment, when he _did_ say something, and quite frankly, I think we all prefer him that way… at least I do.

* * *

Needless to say, Ryouma-kun was able to recover pretty fast.

He just won his first match after his recovery, and though he still had more problems than he would have had before, the match ended quite well in our favor.

His family watched the games this time, ready to be there for him should anything have happened, but cheering him on all the while.

And from our respective benches, we all watched amazed as the player confirmed in court that he was back; he was able to get over that entire situation… again. It didn't matter that he had help, the true achievement came from him, after all, he wouldn't have come back if he didn't have such will power, no matter how much help we gave him.

It's admirable… at least I think so.

Typically, we watch him walk back to the players' benches, the _senpais_ ready to congratulate him, when a confident smirk and a few familiar words we all hadn't heard him say in a while made most of us laugh before any other word could be said first.

"_Mada mada da ne_."

Yes, Ryouma Echizen was back in action, and this time, he had friends who would make sure to keep it that way.

**END of 2nd SERVICE – ACE POINT: CURRENT LIFELINE END**

A.N.: OK, I purposely didn't describe the members of the Towamirai team much as it would be a waste of time and words, so you can think them up however you want, save the smaller details I used here.

Now, this fic is **done**!

And, boy, it took me _months_ to write it! I know it's not exactly big and all, but I had a hard time putting together all the ideas I wanted for it, not to mention that it seems slightly familiar to another fic I had been working on simultaneously (**CLAMP Gakuen Tanteidan**/**CLAMP School Detectives** – "_**The Way You Are Is Fine Enough**_"). I didn't really want to make them that much alike, so I had to limit a few things between each of the two fics. I really enjoyed writing both, though; so I hope their respective readers will like reading them!

Well, if I ever write any PoT fic again, it'll probably be **yaoi** or **shounen-ai **Golden Pair, but that'll take another eternity to write and post, since I'll be working on different anime _oneshots_ for now!

Thanks for keeping up with me and reading this, I really appreciate your efforts!

Comments? Criticisms? Incoherencies? Doubts? Anything else? Please review and help me become a better writer… or just help pump up _**my**_ ego a bit!

Syaoran-Lover aka KaiLi signing out!


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